“Do you have a favorite?” she wondered as she gazed at all the titles.
He whistled. “That’s the hardest question you can ask someone.”
“Fine, is there one you would recommend to someone like me?”
He pondered for a moment, looking up and squinting his eyes as if the Gods themselves would procure an answer for him. The warm glow of the room highlighted his strong features. She saw clearly as his throat bobbed, and Kamine had the desire to lick it.
He went to one of the shelves, and scanned the books before pulling one out, and handing it to her.
“The Tales of Love and Tragedy?”
“It’s a collection of short stories. They’re based on true events. Someone found a collection of letters, and wrote stories basedon the exchanges this couple had. The final story, as you would expect, ends tragically.”
“I don’t think I need more tragedy in my life,” Kamine whispered, more to herself than to him.
“I suppose not, but the love story within this makes the tragedy seem not so tragic.”
She handed the book back to him. “I think I’ll pass for now.”
“You miss her, your mother?”
Kamine nodded, blinking away the sting of tears in her eyes. “Even if the mother I knew wasn’t the one my father fell in love with, or the one that won her Undertaking, she was stillmymother. Even if she was changed, that was the only version I knew.” Kamine caught glimpses of what her mother was like before while she was pregnant with Damien, but there was never any strong affection towards Kamine. Just a gentle calmness that Kamine hadn’t witnessed before.
Grimot bit his lip, as if fighting an internal battle. “Come with me.”
Kamine followed him into another room. His bedroom. The bed was made, the wool covers tucked in perfectly, and the pillows fluffed. He kept such order.
He cleared his throat. “This way.”
Kamine’s face heated, but he just gestured to the bust of Buraza on his dresser. In one of the eyes was an amethyst gem.
“Is—” She swallowed. “Is that the Heart?”
The purple glow of the gemstone practically called to Kamine, as if it recognized her. As if they were one and the same. When she was born, and her eyes turned from blue to a deep purple, her father mentioned how she was the heart of his life, like how the amethyst was the Heart of the court.
Grimot's body stiffened beside her, like a haunting thought had passed through him. But before she could blink, his body relaxed again.
“It’s the exact one your mother found to win her Undertaking. The exact one your cohort will fight to find.”
Kamine snorted. “I’m not trying to get to the Heart. I just want to keep my village safe.”
“A noble thing.”
“It’s not my morals,” Kamine conceded with little shame. “I think Roz would tear me to shreds if I tried to steal it from her.”
He chuckled. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”
The soft sound of his breath rocked her. She wanted to hear him laugh again, and she wanted to be the cause of it.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, leaning in to inspect the glimmer of the purple gem. “How did it feel when your hand was on it, and you won?”
“Glorious. Like I was unstoppable. Like the future didn’t matter because that moment was everything.”
“Does it still feel that way?”
“No,” he answered shortly.
Kamine turned to him, but his eyes were on the Heart. His expression was sullen. She dared to take his hand and give it a comforting squeeze.
